Midnight Under The Stars: Woman in a Sheikh's World. Sarah Morgan

that he’d kidnapped her, but really they’d stolen time away, as normal couples did all the time. He’d dismissed his security team. She’d left her phone behind. It was the first time they’d really been on their own, away from the craziness of his existence and the craziness of hers.

      It had been the happiest week of her life.

      Thinking about it now brought a lump to her throat. The ache in her chest felt like a solid lump and she sneaked a glance towards him, only to find him watching her, that dark gaze fiercely intense.

      ‘Say it.’

      ‘Say what?’

      ‘Say what you are thinking.’

      Avery swallowed. ‘What am I thinking?’

      ‘You are thinking of that week we spent together. Just the two of us.’ His voice was rough and suddenly she couldn’t breathe and the panic pressed down on her because that was exactly what she’d been thinking.

      ‘Actually I was thinking how bleak it is here.’

      His expression told her that he didn’t believe her but he didn’t push her. Instead he turned away, leaving her feeling more vulnerable than she ever had before.

       Now what?

      Not speaking about her feelings didn’t change the fact they existed. And the thought of going into that tent—of being so close to him—kept her sitting outside long after she should have gone inside. She postponed the moment as long as possible. Postponed the moment when they’d be forced together in that cramped, confined space that was designed to force intimacy even between two people who were avoiding it.

      Would she have insisted on joining him if she’d known about the sleeping arrangements? No, probably not. Self-preservation would have outweighed the guilt she felt towards Kalila.

      Kalila. He was going to marry Kalila.

      She had no idea how long she sat there. Time blurred. Misery deepened. Fatigue, the mortal enemy of optimism, caught up with her.

      ‘Avery? You need to come inside the tent now. It’s dark.’ His voice was deep and sexy and she squeezed her eyes closed and tried to block out the images created by that voice.

      ‘I’m not afraid of the dark.’

      ‘No, you are afraid of intimacy, but intimacy is not on offer so you are perfectly safe in this tent with me.’

      ‘I’m not afraid of intimacy.’

      ‘Good. In that case, get in this tent before you become a tasty snack for a desert creature. Unless you’d rather I pick you up and put you here myself?’

      That would be the worst of all options. She didn’t want him to touch her but she knew he would make good on his threat if she didn’t move, so she put her hand down on the rug to lever herself up and felt a sharp pain. ‘Ow.’ She snatched her hand away and there was a scuttling sound. ‘What—? Ugh, Mal, something just bit me. And it rattles.’

      He was by her side in an instant. The torch flashed and a scorpion scuttled under the rug.

      ‘Not a rattlesnake—a scorpion. Good.’

      ‘Good? Why is it good? From where I’m sitting it’s seriously creepy. If we were playing “marry, kiss or push off a cliff”, the scorpion would be the one off the cliff, I can tell you that.’ Her voice rose and she hugged her hand to her chest. ‘Are there any more out here?’

      ‘Hundreds, probably. They come out at night.’

      ‘Hundreds?’ Horrified, she sprang at him, clinging like a monkey. ‘Don’t put me down.’

      ‘Avery—’

      ‘Whatever you do, don’t put me down. I’m never touching the floor again. Do you seriously mean hundreds? Please tell me you’re kidding.’

      She’d forgotten how strong he was. His arms closed around her, strong, protective. She thought he might have been laughing but told herself he wouldn’t dare laugh at her.

      ‘I thought you were fine with desert wildlife.’

      ‘I’m fine with the theory. Not so good with the reality when it closes its jaws on me. And if you dare laugh I will kill you, Your Highness. Just a warning.’

      ‘I’m not laughing. But I’m not going to let you forget this in a hurry.’

      ‘I just bet you’re not.’ She buried her face in his neck, wondering why he had to smell so good.

      ‘It’s worth savouring. The moment Avery Scott became a damsel in distress.’

      ‘No one will ever believe you and I will deny it until my dying breath, which may be soon if there are truly hundreds of those things out there. I’m not distressed. More freaked out. I can tell you this is the first time in my life I’ve jumped on a man.’

      ‘I’m flattered you chose me,’ he drawled. ‘As a matter of interest, are you going to let go?’

      ‘Are they still out there?’

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘Then I’m not letting go. You threatened to carry me to the tent. Go ahead.’ She tightened her grip and he gave a soft curse.

      ‘You’re choking me.’

      ‘I don’t care.’

      ‘If I die, you fall to the ground and they’ll swarm all over you.’

      ‘You have a sick sense of humour.’ But she loosened her grip. ‘Move, Mal! I want to be in the tent.’

      ‘Damsels in distress don’t usually give the orders. And I was in the tent. You were the one who chose scorpions over my company. Are you telling me that you’re rethinking that choice?’

      ‘Don’t be flattered. All it means is that you’re better than a scorpion. Don’t make me beg.’ She clung, her hands pressed to those solid shoulders. ‘Are you laughing?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Good, because if you were laughing, I’d have to punch you with my good hand. My other hand hurts. Am I going to die?’

      ‘It is rare for scorpion bites to cause fatalities.’

      ‘Rare? So that means that sometimes people die, right?’

      His hesitation was brief. ‘Yes, but it’s usually only in the very young or in people with health issues and you don’t fall into either category.’

      ‘That’s not very reassuring. You’re supposed to say, “No, Avery, of course you’re not going to die.” Why don’t men ever know the right thing to say at the right moment?’

      ‘If men said the right thing at the right moment, we’d be women.’ He ducked inside the tent, lowered her onto a sleeping roll he’d laid out for himself and gently detached himself from her grip. The movement brought their faces very close together. She could feel his breath on her cheek. All she had to do was turn her head and their mouths would meet. And she didn’t have to wonder how that would feel because she knew. And he knew, too.

      Their eyes met and she saw the heat in his and knew he would see the same in hers because the chemistry was there, as powerful as ever. It sucked at her stomach and brushed over her skin, making her crave the impossible. She hadn’t kissed a man since him and she missed him terribly.

      It was a dangerous moment and it felt as if it lasted for ever. In reality it was less than a couple of seconds and she was about to push him away when he turned away from her, suddenly brisk and efficient.

      ‘Do you normally react to bee stings or wasp stings?’

      The only thing she reacted to was him.

      Her mouth was so dry it felt as if she’d